Farscape Anthology
by RCS
Summary: A collection of fanfiction
1. One Chance Too Many

ONE CHANCE TOO MANY

Disclaimers: Farscape belongs to Jim Henson Co., Network Nine, Hallmark Entertainment, etc. I make no money on this.

Spoilers: Up to and including the "Look at the Princess" trilogy

Rating: PG

Archiving: Sure

ONE CHANCE TOO MANY

"Commander Crichton!"

John Crichton's eyes fluttered.

"John Crichton!"

Crichton forced his eyes open, craning his head toward the holographic display. As expected, Pilot's face was framed within the device.

"Yeah, Pilot," he replied wearily. He hated the midnight watch. "I'm listening."

"Moya has detected an unidentified energy signature closing on our position."

John yawned and lifted himself from the chair. Wishing for a cup of coffee, he made his way to one of the command consoles.

"Is it a ship?" he asked.

"It appears to be."

It was the third ship to appear on sensors since his shift started. Apparently they were traversing one of the busier trade routes in the Uncharted Territories.

"Keep scanning them, and let me know when you get a positive ID," Crichton said.

"Without question, Commander," Pilot responded.

John smiled, remaining at the console. He knew that if he returned to his seat he would be dozing within seconds. And since D'Argo was his relief, he was not going to have the big Luxan find him asleep at the switch, so to speak.

He continued to watch the view screen before him, gazing at a matrix of stars forming constellations that were unfamiliar to him. If the people in this quadrant of the galaxy even had the concept of a constellation, that is.

"I wonder if this is the Delta Quadrant," he murmured.

"Pardon me, Crichton?" Pilot asked.

"Huh?" Crichton tore his gaze from the star field to Pilot's holographic image. "You say something, Pilot?"

"You said something about a 'Delta Quadrant.'"

John waved a dismissive hand. "It's a _Star Trek_ reference, Pilot. From a TV show on my world."

"I fear to even ask what TV is."

"Good, 'cause I'm too damn tired to explain it right now. Where do we stand on that ship, Pilot?"

"We are not standing anywhere on that ship, Commander Crichton. You are standing on Moya's command deck."

"Thanks a load, Pilot. What I mean is, what is your progress on identifying that ship?"

"Why didn't you ask that in the first place?"

"I did…never mind. Well?"

"I'm still collecting data. The signature seems to be masked."

Alarms were set off within Crichton. A ship masking its drive signatures did not want to be identified. And a ship that didn't want to be identified was up to no good.

"A stealth ship?" John wondered aloud. "Pilot, does Moya have any records of any races with stealth ship technology?"

"Moya has no such record in her data files."

"Damn. This isn't good. Not good at all. Pilot, I think you should have Moya shag ass out of this sector ASAP."

"Ay-sap?"

"As soon as possible, Pilot." 

"I'm afraid we have been detected. The ship in question is attempting communications with us. I believe they are in distress."

Crichton rubbed his jaw. Moya seemed to have a habit of attracting vessels in distress. Well, she caused the distress that had brought Chiana aboard, but the last incident involved a shipload of Peacekeepers with a particularly nasty virus aboard. And he had almost lost Aeryn that day…. 

Still, he could not ignore a vessel in need of aid. "It can't hurt to talk to them. We just don't have to tell them who we are in case they're bounty hunters or Scorpius's goons."

"You have a channel clear," Pilot said.

Static filled the speakers, and a voice spoke over the distortion. "Leviathan transport, please respond. My ship is damaged."

Crichton activated the communicator. "This is the leviathan. How can we be of assistance?"

"I have a malfunction in my life support system. I don't have enough life support to last me to the next habitable planet. It is most fortunate I have found you."

John muted the communicator. "Pilot, I think you better get the others up here." 

* * *

Aeryn Sun scanned the command deck the moment she stepped foot through the access door. She was fully alert even though she had been awakened from a deep slumber. Her lush dark hair was unbound, and she had the presence of mind to dress herself in her customary black vest and black utility trousers.

John Crichton—attired his black shirt and pants with the red Peacekeeper vest he had taken to wearing—and D'Argo were the only two on the command deck. The Human and the Luxan were intently looking at the star field displayed on the front view screen. The tall alien shook his head, the tentacles that framed his crown swaying, as he argued with Crichton.

"You should not have risked us by even speaking to him," the Luxan growled in his baritone.

"I never gave them our identity."

"We are fugitives. And have you not forgotten that half-breed Peacekeeper who wants nothing more than to flay your Human hide!"

"In case you've forgotten, D'Argo, it's my brain he wants, not my hide."

"I know, John. I just don't want to give Scorpius the chance to put you in the Aurora Chair again."

"Me neither, big guy."

"You should have killed him when you had the chance in that foundry."

"I know, D'Argo. I know."

Aeryn hooked her thumbs into her belt as she looked at John. He hadn't been the same since they had rescued him from the Gammak Base. Or since they had returned from the breakaway Sebacean colony where he had almost been married to the heir apparent and thus confined as a statue for eighty cycles. Where she had almost lost him.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely saw the flash of blue out of the corner of her eye. Zhaan, the blue-skinned Delvian priest, was at Aeryn's side. 

"Aeryn." Zhaan's calm voice broke the former Peacekeeper from her musing.

"Zhaan," Aeryn replied, forcing her gaze from John's broad back to the Delvian's hairless head. 

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Should we assist the crippled ship?"

"I think we shouldn't risk it," D'Argo said.

"I'm actually with D'Argo on this one," John said.

All on the command deck looked at the Human incredulously—especially Aeryn. Normally Crichton would be the first one to favor helping someone in trouble. Why was he willing to ignore this craft?

"Well," said D'Argo, sounding triumphant, "we have two votes to ignore their plea."

"Why, John?" Zhaan asked quietly. "This sentiment doesn't sound like you."

Crichton glanced briefly in Aeryn's direction. "I'm tired of playing Good Samaritan for every vagrant in the Uncharted Territories and getting screwed. Has everyone forgotten T'raltixx? Or the intelli-virus? Or the Tavloid—"

"Tavlek," Aeryn corrected, keeping her voice light.

"Whatever," John said wearily. "All I'm saying is, I'm damn tired of people screwing with us."

"How big is that ship?" Aeryn asked.

"Not very," Pilot replied. "Not much larger than Crichton's module. Only one life sign detected."

"I don't see much of a threat," Aeryn said. "It can't hurt to render some assistance." She leveled a gaze on John. She knew he wanted to help the pilot of the damaged ship. "D'Argo and I should be able to handle one individual in case he decides to be unfriendly."

"I agree with Aeryn," said Zhaan. "It is the compassionate thing to do."

"So we're tied," John said. "Where are Chiana and Rygel?"

"I couldn't wake them," the Delvian said, clearly disgusted.

"Chiana is, uh, worn out," D'Argo said.

A corner of John's mouth lifted up in a barely perceptible smile. "When is she _not_ worn out, D'Argo? And why aren't _you_ just as worn?"

"I'm a Luxan."

"That's not an answer, D'Argo."

The big Luxan only smiled. 

Zhaan looked at Pilot's holographic image. "What do you think, Pilot?"

"The vessel in question is not a threat to Moya. Moya and I would hope if we're experiencing difficulties someone would come to our aid. I agree with Zhaan and Officer Sun."

D'Argo growled his disapproval.

"Wait a minute," John said. "Hold the phone here—"

"What's a phone?" Aeryn asked almost playfully. John had become far too serious of late, and Aeryn almost missed his strange Human jocularity.

"Never mind. Does anyone not care why that ship is masking itself?"

"Pilot, bring that ship aboard," Aeryn said.

"As we speak," was Pilot's reply.

* * *

John Crichton shifted his feet uneasily as he waited in the hangar bay with Aeryn and D'Argo. The tall Luxan had his Q'alta blade resting easily against his shoulder, and Aeryn had her pulse rifle at her side. John glanced at the beautiful woman beside him. She was a Sebacean by race, formerly a Peacekeeper by profession. However, with her long dark hair, comely face, penetrating eyes, and lithe figure she could easily pass for a human woman.

A hand resting on the pulse pistol on his hip, Crichton turned his attention back to the ship that was settling onto the deck. It was about the size of _Farscape I_, the module that had brought him to this side of the galaxy and one of his last links to Earth. The strange ship was black, shaped like a tadpole. Crichton thought that to be an odd shape to design a ship around. Of course, some would say that a submarine was a phallic symbol.

The belly of the ship separated with a rush of pressurized air, and a ramp dropped down. A figure emerged tentatively from the vessel, and D'Argo immediately hissed a warning. Aeryn's pulse rifle was butted against her shoulder, and she was aiming down the barrel.

Their visitor was a Sebacean. He wasn't wearing anything that resembled Peacekeeper regalia, and he was unarmed. His dark hair was cut close to his skull, and his eyes were dark and narrow.

"Peacekeeper!" D'Argo hissed, swinging his blade up to a ready position.

The Sebacean man held his hands up palms outward. "No! I'm not Peacekeeper!"

"Are you one of Novia's people?" Aeryn asked.

"Who?" the Sebacean man asked.

Crichton stepped forward. "Why the stealth mode, pal?"

"S-stealth? Oh, the damper fields! You see, I needed that feature to conceal my flight."

"Why?"

"You hadn't heard?"

Crichton's patience was vaporizing quickly. "No. Heard what?"

"Ah, good trick, Peacekeeper. You lull me with feigned ignorance just as you lulled me aboard your ship with your feigned offer of assistance."

"Believe me, my ignorance is genuine." John bit his tongue as soon as the phrase passed his lips. D'Argo gave an "I knew it" snort, and Aeryn's full lips turned up slightly in a smirk. "And I'm no Peacekeeper," he continued.

"You look like a Peacekeeper," the Sebacean said.

John looked from himself to Aeryn. Their attire could be construed as Peacekeeper-issue, especially John's vest.

"I'm a human," he said. "I only look like a Sebacean."

"Never heard of humans," the Sebacean said. "Where are you from?"

"Far away."

"And her?" the visitor gestured toward Aeryn. "Is she also human?"

"Not likely," Aeryn said. "Why are you running from the Peacekeepers?"

"Why does anyone run from Peacekeepers, Aeryn?" John asked. "Your former comrades aren't exactly the most personable sort."

Aeryn arched her eyebrow, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "_Former_ being the operative word, John."

"Who are you?" D'Argo demanded.

"My name is Okun Mal, former Peacekeeper and now fugitive," the Sebacean man said.

"And why are you a fugitive?"

"I was deemed irreversibly contaminated by Peacekeeper High Command."

Aeryn scowled. "What for?"

Okun Mal affixed his gaze on D'Argo. "I fell in love with a female Luxan."

D'Argo flinched as if struck.

Eerie, John thought. Too eerie. Aeryn, too, had been deemed "irreversibly contaminated" by her superiors, and D'Argo's fugitive status resulted from his marriage to a Sebacean woman. It sounded like the stuff coming from the pens of mediocre Hollywood hacks. 

"I am Aeryn Sun, former Peacekeeper officer, and these are John Crichton and Ka D'Argo."

Mal's eyes widened at the introductions, but he smiled. "Are there others on this ship, or do you have it all to yourselves?"

"There are others," D'Argo said. "Come."

"Excuse me," John said, taking Mal's arm. "Where did you get the stealth ship? I didn't think Peacekeepers had stealth ships."

Mal's smile only widened. "I traded the Marauder I had stolen for this ship. I thought its masking capabilities would be useful for a fugitive escaping the Peacekeepers."

"Makes sense." John released the arm, unconvinced.

* * *

"I don't trust him, Zhaan," Crichton said, seating himself at the table with a drink container he had procured from the refrigeration unit. He poured some of the contents into a cup. "It just seems all too convenient to me."

"How so, John?" the Delvian priest asked gently.

"Don't you think it too coincidental that this Mal guy shares something in common with both Aeryn and D'Argo? He's up to something."

"If he is fabricating his story to endear himself to Aeryn and D'Argo, as you seem to suggest, why them and not the rest of us?"

"Of all of us aboard Moya, who are the most reserved in their trust of other people?"

"Aeryn and D'Argo."

"Right. You're a Pa'u, you're supposed to be compassionate. Rygel is only concerned with someone eating his share of the food around here, and I doubt Scorpius takes Chiana too seriously." John stared at his untouched drink. "Me, I'm a stupid primitive from the far corner of the galaxy whose opinions don't matter much anyway. Except for that damn wormhole knowledge buried in my brain that Scorpius wants."

Zhaan laid a hand on his. "Your opinions have value with me, John. And the others, I'm sure."

"The Peacekeepers wouldn't believe that. All I am is a bug to be mentally-dissected by Scorpy's chair."

"You think Mal is in league with the Peacekeepers?"

"Who else would know about Aeryn's contamination? Or D'Argo's true crime against the purity of the Sebacean race?" Crichton sighed. "I've told you about the Nazis, haven't I?"

"You have mentioned them, John. They were a group of humans who killed a lot of people on your planet. They believed in racial purity."

He gave her a wan smile. "Remind you of anybody in this part of space? Well, these Nazis had developed a special corps of soldiers for one battle in that war. We call it the Battle of the Bulge. These special soldiers were outfitted with American army uniforms and were trained to speak English with American accents. Their purpose was to throw off the Allied powers by making them believe they were American troops."

"The Americans were the humans who fought these Nazis?"

"One of several nations, yeah. I'm an American on my world. Anyway, these guys learned a lot about their American adversaries to better deceive them. Just like this guy seems to know a lot about us."

"You think Okun Mal is a Peacekeeper posing as a fugitive?"

"Peacekeeper infiltrators are not unheard of, Zhaan. There was that disrupter who posed as Prince Clayvor's fiancee on the royal planet. Then again, he may be legit. I'm not giving my opinion, though. I'm not going to risk any decision of mine nearly losing Aer—all of you again."

* * *

The crew had gathered on the mess deck to discuss the situation with Okun Mal. Moya's DRD's had repaired the malfunctioning life support aboard Mal's ship, but Mal had suggested that he could be of service to them aboard Moya. Aeryn agreed with the Sebacean man's assessment of the advantages of greater numbers. And his skills would supplement her own Peacekeeper training. D'Argo also seemed to recognize the tactical advantage of three warriors instead of two. Normally she would be hesitant, but Okun Mal was just like her, irreversibly contaminated. She would probably be dead now if Crichton hadn't stood up for her with the others. She could do no less for Mal.

"How do we know you're not still a Peacekeeper?" Crichton asked Mal.

"You don't trust me," Mal stated.

"No."

Aeryn shot John a look. "You trusted me, John. You gave me a chance. You gave Chiana a chance."

"That's different," Crichton said.

"How?"

"It just is." He put his hand to his brow with his elbow on the table. 

John was certainly different. He was more morose than she ever remembered him. Maybe his experiences with the Aurora Chair and the royal intrigues on the breakaway colony were taking their toll on him. He was becoming more withdrawn lately. Withdrawn from her. She found herself missing even his inane Human expressions. She wanted to ask him what was wrong with him, but not in the company of the others. She'll find him alone sometime later.

"Do what you want," he said, rising. "I waive my vote."

He started for the door, but Chiana stopped him.

"Want some company, John?" the gray-skinned Nebari girl asked.

John gave her a sideways glance. "Not today, Chiana, I need some time alone."

He left the mess deck, with Chiana close behind him. Aeryn gripped the edge of the table, her legs urging to lift herself out of her seat. But she stayed put.

Rygel floated away from the table in his hover throne, his earbrows twitching. "Do what you will. Just keep that frelling abomination away from my share of the food cubes."

"Then it is agreed?" D'Argo said. "Mal stays."

Aeryn nodded once in agreement.

"It is agreed," Zhaan said.

"And Crichton and Chiana have waived their decisions in the matter," D'Argo pointed out. "Mal's skills will be most beneficiary."

Okun Mal rose from his chair. "I thank your generosity. Perhaps I should retrieve what belongings I have from my ship.

"Do you have anything of value?" Rygel asked, his earbrows rising in interest.

"I'm afraid I have little of value, Hynerian," Mal said. "Excuse me."

The Sebacean left the mess deck. Aeryn lifted herself out of her chair. Halfway from her chair to the door, she stopped and turned around.

"Zhaan, has Crichton talked to you lately?" she asked.

"About what, my dear?" the priest asked in her soothing voice.

"He hasn't been…he hasn't been the Crichton we've come to know. Not since we left the breakaway colony. I thought he would be one of the strongest supporters of allowing Mal on board. Of giving him a chance. That sentiment is typical Crichton."

"He's been through a lot, Aeryn."

"And he has been spending an awful lot of time with that module of his."

"It's his only piece of home he has."

Aeryn turned and walked out the door.

* * *

Crichton arrived on the hangar deck. He looked at the tadpole-shaped ship parked between the _Farscape I_ and Aeryn's Prowler. Folding his arms across his chest, he examined the odd vessel. The landing struts supporting the craft looked familiar. Tilting his head, he scowled. Where did I see…? 

His eyes widened when he looked from Mal's ship to the Prowler. The struts supporting Aeryn's fighter looked very similar to the struts supporting the tadpole ship. He stepped forward, placing a hand on the fuselage of the Mal's ship.

"Son of a…," he murmured. "Mal told us he got this ship in a trade for his Marauder." 

Footsteps sounded behind him. He rolled his eyes upward as he whirled around.

"Chiana, I said I need—"

A solid object connected against his skull, and his world exploded into blackness.

* * *

Aeryn caught Chiana in the hallway outside Crichton's quarters, gripping the girl's arm. "What are you doing here, trelk?"

"Apparently the same thing you are," the Nebari said. "Waiting for John."

Aeryn tightened her grip on Chiana's arm. "For what reason?"

"Don't be jealous, Aeryn, you know I'm with D'Argo. And I know Crichton is yours."

"I'm not jealous. And Crichton isn't mine."

"You could have fooled me, Aeryn."

"Why are you waiting outside his quarters?"

"Something's been bothering him, and I thought maybe he needed an ear."

"Just an ear?"

"Yeah. If he is not here then maybe he's in the hangar. Probably working on that module of his."

Aeryn glared at the Nebari, then released her. She turned and walked away. From behind her, she heard Chiana's parting remark.

"Remember what I told you before, Aeryn. Men are stupid."

Aeryn stopped, still staring ahead of her. Before she could say anything, Okun Mal came down the corridor with a duffel bag in his hands. She looked behind her, and Chiana was gone. 

"Aeryn," said Okun. "I was told you could show me to my quarters."

"Certainly," she said absently. "Follow me."

* * *

Crichton returned to consciousness with a pounding headache. His surroundings were dark, and he lay on his side on a hard surface with his wrists and ankles bound. He felt another body behind him. Groaning, he tried to roll onto his back, but leaned into whomever was behind him.

He heard a familiar hiss.

"D'Argo?" Crichton asked.

"John," was the Luxan's terse reply.

"What the hell happened? One minute I was looking at Mal's ship, the next I'm getting clobbered."

"It is Mal. I was showing him to his quarters when he hit me from behind. At least I assume it was him."

"His ship is a Peacekeeper ship."

"How do you know that?"

"The landing gear is like the gear on Aeryn's Prowler. Standard Peacekeeper design, I imagine. Closer study of the ship may show other Peacekeeper technology."

"And the masking system?"

"Probably new technology that Aeryn isn't aware of. Or he did obtain it from non-Peacekeeper sources for this mission."

"I cannot believe I was fooled by that Peacekeeper. And I can't believe you weren't."

"Don't worry, D'Argo, I would have fallen for it if I weren't so suspicious of everyone we meet now." Crichton bit his lip as his head throbbed. "I think Mal intends to take us to Scorpius."

"Obviously."

"Now how do we get ourselves out of this?"

"Hello?" said a familiar feminine voice. "What have we here? You two look like you're in a bind. Need a hand?"

"Chiana," said Crichton. "How did you know we were here?"

"I didn't," the Nebari said, crawling over D'Argo and straddling his waist. "Purely accidental."

"And where is here?" D'Argo demanded.

"The hold of Mal's ship," Chiana replied. "I came to the hangar looking for John, and when I couldn't find you I decided to see if there was anything aboard Mal's ship worth…ah…claiming as payment for his passage on Moya."

Crichton laughed. "Thank God for your larcenous nature, Chiana. Just this once, though. Now, could you release us?"

"Certainly, but first…." 

Crichton heard rustling as Chiana searched the hold. Moments later, both John and D'Argo were released of their bonds. They departed Mal's ship.

"Get Zhaan, Chiana," Crichton said. "D'Argo and I have to find Mal before he hurts the others."

Chiana nodded, smiling at him. She tried to reach up to hug him, but he pulled away from her as he headed for the exit out of the hangar.

"I'll get a weapon," said D'Argo.

John nodded his understanding. He wasn't going to wait, however. He had to find Mal before he hurt the others. Especially Aeryn. Mal was a Peacekeeper trained in the same skills as Aeryn. Mal had one advantage over her: she trusted him. He could attack her at any time without warning. 

* * *

"Nice," said Mal. "Very nice."

Aeryn raised an eyebrow. "This used to be a cell, you know."

"I lived for several weekens on that ship you have in your hangar. This cell, as you put it, is palatial compared to what I have been used to."

"Mm." Aeryn was paying him little mind. She was making a bad hostess, she knew, but she was distracted. Distracted by thoughts of a certain Human who was closing himself down.

Mal took a device from within his duffel bag. It was a cylinder with a cone on one end.

"This may prove some interest to you," he said. "I found it on the last commerce planet. An interesting device created by a species known as the Albacars. They hated Sebaceans, particularly Peacekeepers."

"What's it for?" Aeryn asked, only mildly interested. She glanced at the entrance, yearning to get Mal settled in so she could find Crichton.

"Torture," Mal said. "It projects before it a cone of intense heat. The Albacars use this device to bring heat delirium on Sebaceans, slowly bringing on the Living Death. Then they would leave the Sebacean to suffer with the Living Death instead of mercifully ending their suffering."

"Sounds horrible," Aeryn said.

"I told you the Albacars hate Sebaceans."

"Then why do you have one of those devices?"

Mal's thumb touched a switch, and Aeryn was suddenly struck by a wave of intense heat. Her legs immediately gave out on her, and she slammed backward against a wall. She slid down to a sitting position and toppled onto her left side. Mal bent down and pulled Aeryn's pistol from its holster on her hip. He tucked it into his belt. 

"W-why?" she stammered.

"The easier to give you to Scorpius. Or rather, get you out of the way so I can take John Crichton to Scorpius."

"You lied to us."

"Not entirely. Well, I lied about loving the Luxan female. A most foul race. I could barely even stomach telling you the lie. The fugitive part is true, though. I killed my captain."

"You are a traitor."

"No less than you, Aeryn Sun. I know all about you and the prisoners on this leviathan. And John Crichton. Scorpius would be especially grateful if I bring him Crichton. I'm aware that Scorpius wants Crichton alive. I already have Crichton and the Luxan in my ship. The Hynerian won't pose much of a threat, but the Delvian may."

"You're going to trade us for full reinstatement," Aeryn said. She felt her strength draining quickly. In another few microts the Living Death would be upon her. And while she was no more than a vegetable—if she remembered Crichton's expression correctly—the traitor Mal would take John and the others to Scorpius. Where John would face a most hideous torture in the Aurora Chair, and the others hard prison sentences.

She was about to close her eyes to wait for the Living Death when Crichton suddenly crashed into Mal. The Human drove the Sebacean into the far wall, and with him took the field of intense heat from Mal's device off of Aeryn. John held Mal by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall.

"You stay away from her, you lizard-blooded bastard!" he seethed.

Crichton drew his fist back and hammered Mal's nose. He didn't stop with one blow, repeatedly raining punches into the Sebacean's face. John continued to sputter curses as he struck again and again and again. 

Mal, recovering, drove his fist into John's gut. Crichton doubled over, giving Mal the opening to slam him around against the bulkhead. Mal delivered a flat-handed blow to Crichton's chest, and Aeryn heard the distinct crunch of ribs cracking. She winced, cursing herself for being unable to do more than watch helplessly.

Crichton sneered, and his hands wrapped themselves around Mal's throat. He pressed his thumbs against the Sebacean's windpipe, clearly determined to kill him. Aeryn had never seen John so ruthless before.

Mal took Aeryn's pistol from his belt, and a familiar whine filled the room. Mal stepped back away from John.

Crichton stared down at himself in disbelief. A dark stain of charred cloth marred his abdomen where the pulse beam had struck him. He put his hands to the wound, collapsing to his knees.

"No!" Aeryn screamed. "John!"

Her weapon. It was her weapon that had done this to him.

Mal shook his head. "I had hoped to bring you to Scorpius alive, Crichton. Well, I can't tell Scorpius I killed you. I'll have to make it look like you killed yourself. After all, isn't suicide better than the Aurora Chair?"

The Sebacean placed the muzzle of the pistol to Crichton's temple. John stared into Mal's eyes, not looking away. The Human's jaw was set, determined not to show fear to his enemy. Aeryn could only admire his determination. With some of her strength slowly returning, she crawled on her belly toward the two men.

"Anything you would like me to tell Scorpius?" Mal asked.

"Tell him I'll see him—and you—in hell."

Mal shrugged and prepared to fired the pistol into Crichton's head. Aeryn screamed for him to stop. Another whine filled the room, and a blue bolt bored into Mal's back. Mal turned around to face his newest threat.

D'Argo stood in the doorway, his Q'alta blade in rifle mode. The Luxan fired again, striking Mal's chest. Mal turned toward Crichton with his pistol. Aeryn scrambled for the male Sebacean with what little strength she had as D'Argo fired again.

Mal's pistol spoke, the energy pulse burrowing into Crichton's shoulder, piercing through to strike the bulkhead behind him. D'Argo moved further into the room, firing at point blank range. Okun Mal finally fell to the floor dead.

D'Argo tossed his weapon aside and knelt before Crichton. "John…."

"Aeryn," John said. "Is she…is she…."

"She'll survive, John. The Living Death hasn't taken hold."

Crichton smiled weakly. "Good. I think I have to sleep now."

"No, John, you have to stay awake." The Luxan tapped his communicator badge. "Zhaan, we need you in Mal's quarters. Hurry!"

"Déjà vu," Crichton murmured, barely audible. "At least this time it isn't Aeryn who's bleeding all over you." 

"Zhaan!" D'Argo called again.

"I'm on my way," Zhaan responded.

John put a bloodstained hand on D'Argo's shoulder. "This is it, huh, big guy. A pulse blast to the gut and through the shoulder. I'm done for, aren't I."

D'Argo shook his head. "Don't talk that way, John."

"At least I won't have Scorpy in my head anymore." His eyes fluttered closed. "Good-bye, Scorpy. You won't be getting that wormhole knowledge from me. I guess you're S.O.L."

Aeryn bit her lip, a lump coming to her throat. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes. John! Oh, frell her Sebacean blood for her susceptibility to heat! She barely had the strength to lever herself to a sitting position.

"If I don't make it," John said, barely perceptible. "If I don't make it, tell Aeryn…tell her…." His head lolled forward as he said something to D'Argo. His voice was too low for her to hear.

Then his head slumped against D'Argo's shoulder.

"John!" Aeryn cried.

Zhaan entered the room and gently took Crichton from the Luxan. Chiana, coming in with the Delvian, was enlisted to help Zhaan as D'Argo went to Aeryn. He helped the former Peacekeeper into a sitting position against the bulkhead.

Aeryn swiped at her eyes before the threatening tears could roll free. D'Argo looked at her with sympathy.

"What did he tell you?" she asked. "He wanted you to tell me something."

"Only if he doesn't survive his wounds," D'Argo said. "I won't tell you until he succumbs, and I'm not willing to concede that. Are you?"

Aeryn shook her head, looking away from him to John's body sprawled on the floor with Zhaan working feverishly.

"He is strong, Aeryn," D'Argo said. "He has more strength than what we give him credit for."

"What if he wants to die though?" she asked, her voice catching. "He lost his will to fight back on the royal planet. What if he loses his will to fight back now?"

"Chiana, get my lebbit root!" Zhaan suddenly cried. "I'm losing him!"

Aeryn rested her forehead against D'Argo's shoulder. She set her jaw, pressing her lips together. She wasn't going to succumb. She was determined not to succumb to grief. It didn't work. Her body shook with sobs as the Luxan gently enfolded her in his comforting embrace.

* * *

The terrace was a peaceful sanctuary where Aeryn frequently sought solace. The force field keeping the ship's atmosphere within was all that stood between her and the cold vacuum of space. And from the entrancing view of the stars. 

It had been two solar days since her agreeing to allow Mal on board had resulted in the grave injuries to John Crichton. She folded her arms across herself when she remembered him on the deck, bleeding with a pulse blast in his torso. He had been willing to sacrifice his life for her.

She had wanted to see him in the infirmary, to be there when he awoke just as he had been there for her after she was stabbed by the virus in Larraq's body. Every time she checked in on him, however, Chiana was there looking after him. Chiana stroking his hair. Chiana holding his hand.

She swallowed when Crichton appeared beside her. He was still sickly pale, and he was leaning on one of Rygel's scepters that he had commandeered for a cane. His left arm was immobilized in a sling.

"You should still be resting," she said quietly.

"I know, I feel like hell. You never came by the infirmary."

"I didn't want to disturb you." 

"You wouldn't have disturbed me, Aeryn."

"And Chiana?"

"What about Chiana?"

"She never left your side."

John shuffled around to face her. He peered at her with light blue eyes. "So you did look in on me at least."

Aeryn averted her gaze. "Yes."

She felt his hand slip into hers. "So you do care."

She lifted her eyes to his. "Yes."

"I had to get out of the infirmary to get away from Chiana. She was starting to get on my nerves. She's been even more smothering than Zhaan."

"Chiana cares about you."

"Yeah, I guess I'm a big brother to her or something. But hanging around me for twenty-four hours a day…I don't know I guess was just…I don't know."

"You were getting sick of her."

"Yeah." He put a hand to Aeryn's cheek. "I wouldn't have gotten sick of you, though."

"You have, once, I recall."

"I was acting like an idiot then."

"It was my weapon that almost killed you."

"But you didn't pull the trigger. Mal did."

"I lost control of my weapon." She lowered her eyes. "It was fortunate I had it on a low setting or you would have been more seriously injured."

"You mean have half my gut blown away like what you did to NamTar?"

"Only you would not have regenerated as well as he did."

John put a finger to her chin to lift her face to his. "It wasn't your fault, Aeryn."

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "I couldn't do anything for you." Her voice cracked, and she cursed herself for the weakness. "I was helpless."

"Your were affected by heat delirium, Aeryn. He ambushed you and hit you with that heat gun or whatever the hell it was. D'Argo told me it was specially designed to induce heat delirium on a Sebacean." 

"What did you tell D'Argo?"

"What do you mean?"

Aeryn sighed. "I overheard you, John. You told D'Argo to tell me something if you didn't…." Her voice trailed off, unwilling to even verbalize the idea of him dying.

"Oh, that."

"I'm waiting."

He smiled. "I'm happy we made one thing clear between us."

Aeryn swallowed. "Which is?"

John leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips. "I'm glad we're genetically compatible."

"So am I."

"I'm tired, Aeryn. I think I have to go back to the infirmary."

She nodded. "Very well. Do you need some help?"

His grin widened. "I would appreciate that."

Aeryn put a supporting arm around his waist and helped him maneuver off the terrace. 


	2. These Are The Voyages

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters; various other people own them

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters; various other people own them. I use them with love and respect, but I make no money off them.

Spoilers: Up to and including "Won't Get Fooled Again."

Rating: PG

Archiving: With permission

THESE ARE THE VOYAGES….

"_Captain's Log Stardate 2005417.4, Captain John R. Crichton reporting. Starfleet Command has ordered the _Moya_ to transport a renowned Federation ambassador to Novia VI to broker the former Imperial colony's admission into the Federation. I have been warned that the Empire has dispatched its own emissary to Novia VI in the hopes of convincing their wayward colony to return to the Imperial fold. None other than Admiral Jack Crichton himself, my father and a legend in Starfleet, had warned me to prepare for Imperial treachery. I told him the mission should go slicker'n snot_."

* * *

The man whose image was broadcast on the forward view screen introduced himself. "Hail and greetings. I'm High Counselor Tyno, advisor and first adjutant to Her Royal Highness, the Princess Katralla."

John Crichton rose from his command chair and gave his formfitting gold Starfleet uniform shirt a tug. "I'm Captain John R. Crichton of the Federation starship _Moya_. We have the Federation ambassador."

Counselor Tyno inclined his head. "We have been awaiting your arrival, Captain."

Crichton made a quarter turn to his right and gestured toward the diminutive figure beside him. The Federation ambassador was a short being, barely a meter in height, and his mobility was normally attained by a hovering chair.

"May I present his eminence, Ambassador Buckwheat Rygel," the captain said.

"I look forward to a fruitful discourse with her highness, Counselor," Ambassador Rygel said.

"I am pleased," said Tyno. "You've been granted permission to beam down to the planet's surface with a small landing party."

The counselor's image vanished, replaced by the starry backdrop of space. Captain Crichton turned away from the view screen as the first officer approached. Commander Aeryn Sun was a striking woman, her figure accentuated by her curve-hugging gold tunic that showed a lot of leg. She kept her dark tresses in a ponytail, unlike the other women aboard who kept theirs up and held in place by a spray that seemed to polymerize their hair. The first officer was at her captain's side in a few steps, her luminous eyes looking upon him in pure adoration.

He grinned. "Aeryn, detail a landing party to accompany us to the planet's surface."

"Yes, Captain," she said.

Crichton watched the beautiful first officer walk off the bridge, then turned his attention to the alien manning the helm station. "Lieutenant Pilot, put the _Moya_ in a geosynchronous orbit over the royal capital."

"Yes, Captain," the helm officer said.

The captain surveyed the bridge with pride. His crew was a good crew, capable of handling any situation. Characteristic of a good crew was confidence in their captain. Crichton inspired that confidence, for the crew knew their captain was always in complete control of every situation that came up.

"Mr. D'Argo," he said.

The tall Luxan in the red shirt, Lieutenant Commander Ka D'Argo, turned from his station to face his captain. "Sir."

"You'll have the conn when First Officer Sun and I are on the surface."

"Yes, Captain."

The young Nebari woman at the communications console, wearing a red tunic, put her hand to the device in her ear. "Captain, we're being hailed from the planet's surface again," Lieutenant Chiana reported.

"Counselor Tyno?"

"Yes, Captain. He says the Imperial delegation's ship has arrived in the Novia system. It's headed for the colony."

Crichton turned to face the view screen. "Pilot, on screen."

"Yes, Captain," said Pilot.

The Imperial ship's image suddenly appeared on the forward screen. Crichton marveled at the engineering that went into building the large arrowhead-shaped warship. The Imperial vessel could certainly give the _Moya_ a run for her money.

"Status?" the captain asked.

D'Argo consulted his tactical console. "The Imperial ship's weapons and shields are powered down, Captain."

"Their intentions are peaceful. For now. Keep an eye on that ship, D'Argo. The Empire doesn't always play with a straight deck. Come on, Ambassador, we're meeting the landing party in the transporter room."

* * *

Counselor Tyno bowed at the waist. "Ambassador. Captain. Welcome to Novia."

"A pleasure," Rygel said.

"If you'll follow me to the royal chamber, Her Royal Highness is waiting."

"Lead on."

Tyno and Rygel took the lead. Crichton put a hand to the small of Aeryn's back as the pair fell in step behind the dignitaries. The other two members of the landing party walked behind John and Aeryn. Dr. Zotoh Zhaan, a striking Delvian woman in a blue Starfleet tunic, was the _Moya_'s chief medical officer. Beside her strode one of Commander D'Argo's security people, Ensign Joe Redshirt.

"This palace is impressive, John," Aeryn said quietly. "The people on this planet must be quite wealthy."

"Novia VI is a rich source of dilithium, which is why the Empire wants it back so badly," Crichton said.

Tyno led the Federation people into the throne room. He strolled purposefully to the throne at the far end and bowed to the lovely woman occupying the royal seat. He gestured for Crichton and Rygel to approach. The captain gave his first officer's hand an assuring squeeze and complied.

The Princess Katralla stood and stepped down off the dais. Crichton and Rygel bowed before her. When she bid them to rise, they did.

"May I present Her Royal Highness, the Princess Katralla of Novia VI," Tyno said. "Your Highness, this is Ambassador Buckwheat Rygel of the United Federation of Planets and Captain John Crichton, captain of the U.S.S. _Moya_."

"A pleasure, Your Highness," Rygel said.

Princess Katralla's gaze hovered on Crichton. "The pleasure is mine."

Crichton smiled under her scrutiny. He confidently swept a hand toward his crew. "Shall I present some of my crew. Commander Aeryn Sun, my first officer. Dr. Zotoh Zhaan, my medical officer. And Ensign Joe Redshirt, my security detachment while on the planet."

"I shall have Tyno arrange quarters for your people while you are in the palace."

A messenger entered the throne room and bowed before the princess. "Pardon my intrusion, Your Highness. The Imperial delegate has arrived."

"Show him in," Katralla instructed.

The messenger stood and bolted out of the room. Moments later, the Imperial emissary walked in, and Crichton swore he could hear the distinctive notes of a marching score. The Imperial delegate was an imposing figure, dressed all in black with a flowing black cloak. His helmeted head was hidden by a sinister-looking mask, and his rhythmic breathing had a mechanical effect. His ebony accouterments were contrasted by the white armor of the two soldiers who guarded him.

The Imperial knelt on one knee before the princess, bowing his helmeted head. "Your Highness. I am Lord Vader, the highest emissary of His Imperial Majesty."

"A pleasure," Katralla said, more out of politeness than any real feeling.

Vader rose and turned to the Federation delegation.

"I am Ambassador Buckwheat Rygel of the Federation," Rygel said. "This is Captain John Crichton of the Federation starship _Moya_." 

The Imperial inclined his head. "Ambassador." His masked face turned toward Crichton. "Your fame precedes you, Captain Crichton. You are a renowned adversary. You name is destined to outshine even that of your father's."

Crichton squared his shoulders. "I have a good crew behind me, Lord Vader."

Vader turned toward the princess again. "I bring word of the Emperor's dissatisfaction with your planet's secession from the Empire."

"My people are dissatisfied with the oppressive Imperial rule, Lord Vader."

"And why, then, would you subjugate your independence to the Federation?"

"We cannot survive alone, and the Federation will offer us both security and freedom."

"You must understand, Princess, the Emperor cannot allow the rich Novian mines to fall under Federation control."

"There is nothing the Emperor can do, Lord Vader." Katralla stood. "I will have that alliance with the Federation, and to strengthen our bonds I will have a wedding of alliance with a high-profile member of the Federation."

Rygel seemed taken aback by that news. "And who's the lucky groom, Your Highness?"

Katralla looked into Crichton's eyes. "Captain John Crichton."

"No!" Aeryn exclaimed.

* * *

John Crichton lay flat on his back on the examination table within the room that served as Zhaan's medical facilities. The Delvian moved across the room with a swish of her flowing robes and adjusted the bedside scanner. An expression of concern was etched on her face.

Aeryn Sun stood beside the bed, her hands clasped behind her back. Her face was neutral, but the sheen in her eyes revealed more than any facial expression. D'Argo was beside her, a comforting hand on her shoulder. She wasn't certain if it was more to comfort her or to comfort himself. Chiana hovered near Zhaan, responding to the Delvian's commands when she requested certain medical instruments.

"You said he's been comatose since you brought him up from the commerce planet?" Zhaan asked.

"Yes," Aeryn replied with an unsteady voice.

"Could it be Maldis again?" D'Argo asked.

Aeryn shook her head. She had taken over the frantic search for him when he had disappeared, and she remembered her intense fear that Scorpius had found him again. Finally, after a long search, she had been the one who had discovered him sprawled out in the back alley on the commerce planet.

"He was still barely conscious when I found him," the Sebacean woman said. "He said one word before he passed out. 'Scarrans.' Could they have done something to him?"

"Wonderful," D'Argo snapped bitterly. "Now the Scarrans are after him?"

"Maybe the Scarrans don't want John for the same reasons Scorpius does," Chiana said. "The Scarran emissary on the royal planet knew Scorpius wants him, and the Scarrans and Peacekeepers are not exactly on friendly terms."

"Perhaps the Scarrans are curious about why Scorpius is so interested in capturing John," Zhaan said. "That explains the readings I'm finding."

"Which is?" Aeryn asked.

"His mind had been recently probed."

"Like the Aurora Chair?"

"No. Deeper, more intrusive. His memories were not merely extracted. Someone had toyed with his mind. Altered his perceptions. The procedure was even more invasive and damaging than what that Delvian enclave did to us." Zhaan laid a hand on Crichton's brow. "I can detect residual elements of the Aurora Chair effects, however."

"The Aurora Chair was Scorpius's project, from what I understand," Aeryn said. "I hadn't known of any such technology before the Gammak Base."

"Scorpius is part Scarran," D'Argo said. "Perhaps he obtained his Aurora Chair technology from his Scarran relatives. Can you do anything for him, Zhaan?"

Zhaan shook her head. "I don't know what to do. His mind seems to be at peace right now. He may not want to leave that."

* * *

"I appreciate the sentiment, Your Highness," Captain Crichton said, "but I'm afraid I can't. I'm in love with my first officer, and she's in love with me."

"You will be admitted into the Federation without requiring your marriage to a high-ranking Federation official, Your Highness," Rygel said.

Katralla sighed. "You're right. I can't force a marriage on a man who is so obviously in control of his own destiny."

"Then perhaps we shall discuss your admission," Rygel suggested.

"I will do all I can to prevent this union, Princess," Vader warned.

Crichton took his communicator from his belt. "Crichton to _Moya_."

"Captain," D'Argo said.

"The Imperial delegation isn't being entirely agreeable down here. Keep your eyes peeled up there."

"Yes, Captain."

Crichton returned his communicator to his belt. "Lord Vader, you can't stop the inevitable. Novia will join the Federation."

"You will do nothing to impede my plan," Vader warned. "Katralla will agree to return Novia to the Empire, and you will bow down before me, Crichton. It is your destiny."

Crichton laughed out loud. "No one controls my destiny but me, Vader. Your mind tricks don't work on me."

"We shall see, Crichton."

Vader spun on his heel and strode out of the throne room.

"That was pleasant," Crichton remarked.

Aeryn took his hands in hers. "I can't believe you stood up to Vader and his mental powers like that, John. I had always admired your mental focus, but he's got powers I don't understand."

"My thoughts are my own, Aeryn. No one will access them unless I allow them to." He grinned. "You, of course, have my full permission."

She smiled at him, kissing him full on the lips. Sure, the others in the room were watching this display, but he was Captain Crichton, hero of the Federation.

* * *

"I dare not attempt any stimulants on him," Zhaan said. "I can't predict how his physiology would react."

"Can you try that Delvian thing?" Chiana asked. "Unity?"

Zhaan shook her head. "Not until I know more about the malady that has done this to him."

Aeryn felt helpless, a feeling she didn't relish. All she could do was stand at Crichton's bedside and hold his hand in both of hers.

"We should go back to the frelling commerce planet and tear it apart until we find the Scarran hezmot who did this to him," D'Argo growled.

"That won't do any good, D'Argo," Zhaan said.

"Yeah, remember the last time you stood toe-to-toe against a Scarran," Chiana said, "and you had Scorpius on your side then."

The tall Luxan growled and left the room. Aeryn assumed he was going to take some of his frustrations out on her training equipment. She wanted to do that very thing herself, but she couldn't bring herself to leave John's side.

Rygel hovered into the chamber, moving to the examination table. His earbrow twitched as he peered at the motionless Human.

"Don't even think about taking any of his possessions," Aeryn warned in a low voice.

"Hmph," the Hynerian snorted. "What do you take me for?"

"A greedy little toad," the former Peacekeeper responded.

"I'm insulted."

"If the shoe fits, frog-boy, wear it," Chiana said.

"That sounds like one of Crichton's inane expressions," Aeryn said.

The Nebari girl smiled. "It is. I kinda like it."

The former Peacekeeper pressed her lips together to suppress the quiver that threatened. She wondered what was going on inside Crichton's head.

* * *

"This is the royal gardens," Katralla explained to the Federation delegates as they strolled across the walkway. "We have every variety of plant life in this region of the galaxy in this garden."

"Impressive," Aeryn said as she bent down to smell a flower that looked like a blue rose.

Crichton grinned. He found his first officer even more impressive than the garden. Looking from Aeryn's form to the trees overhead, he noticed a glint from one of the branches. He scowled as he recognized what he was looking at.

He lunged at Katralla. "Get down!"

As he bore the princess to the sidewalk and covered her with his body, Ensign Redshirt stepped up to defend his captain. An energy bolt erupted from the trees, transfixing the hapless crewman through the chest. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Crichton, meanwhile, was on his feet with his own phaser in his hand. One blast dropped the assailant from his perch. Crichton approached the cloaked figure and turned him over onto his back, revealing a soldier in white armor.

"One of Vader's men," the captain said.

Aeryn was at his side, slipping her hand into his. "Was he trying to kill you, John?"

"Not me. The princess. He thought if he killed her he could put a puppet in her place who would be friendly to the Empire."

"What are you going to do?"

"Confront Vader once and for all."

"Well, be careful, John."

He kissed her. "I will. I always am."

"I know. You're John Crichton, hero of the Federation and in control of your own destiny. But does your destiny include me?"

"Of course it does, babe."

* * *

"This isn't good," Zhaan said, her hand on John's brow with her eyes closed.

Aeryn had insisted Zhaan try her Unity to learn more of what was happening to Crichton. The Delvian was unable to complete a full Unity with John unconscious, but her Unity with him on the Delvian enclave had given her a bond with him. A bond that Aeryn at times felt some jealousy over.

Aeryn's heart seemed to jump into her throat at Zhaan's comment. "What? What's not good?"

"This malady that's affecting him is coming from within John."

"What do you mean?"

"It's his own mind fighting what has been done to him."

"You mean he's doing this to himself?"

"It would seem so. Aeryn, no matter how strong one's mind is, it can only take so much probing over a certain amount of time before it has finally had enough. His behavior has been erratic enough since his experiences in the Aurora Chair, and now this recent bout with a mind probe. I'm surprised he has any of his sanity left."

"Is there nothing you could do?"

"This battle he must fight on his own. I must tell you, Aeryn, that I am detecting no desire from him to leave whatever world he's created in his mind. He may not want to return to the tumult of the real world, and he will remain comatose. Eventually his body will waste away, and his organs will fail."

Aeryn gripped his hand tighter.

* * *

"You wanted to speak with me?" Vader asked.

Crichton turned around and faced the menacing Imperial. Good, Vader had come alone.

"Yes," Crichton said. "I think we should settle this once and for all."

Vader stepped closer, holding out a hand. "This is pointless, Crichton. Join me, and together we will rule the galaxy together."

"I told you, your mind tricks don't work on me."

Lord Vader took a cylinder from his belt, and with a hiss of energy a red blade formed. "Then you shall die."

Crichton laughed. "Do your best, Vader."

The Imperial lunged, and Crichton sidestepped the blow. He grabbed Vader's arm and flipped him over his shoulder. The energy weapon clattered across the floor, out of reach. Crichton lifted Vader up by the shoulders and slammed him against the nearest wall.

* * *

"We're losing him," Zhaan said. "His mind is retreating further into the recesses of whatever secure world he had created."

"Do something," Aeryn cried, trying to control the panic in her voice.

"I can't. It's all up to him."

* * *

Captain Crichton delivered a blow to Vader's face, amazed that the face mask didn't hurt his knuckles. He pounded time and again, and the towering Imperial was weakening under his blows. Captain John Crichton, hero of the Federation, was winning another battle against a hated adversary. If he could defeat Vader once and for all, he could retire from the Federation, marry Aeryn, and settle down to have children. The last obstacle to a well-deserved life of quiet bliss was this hated enemy.

He threw Vader against the wall again and drove his fist squarely into the center of the face mask. The mask cracked. Crichton struck again, and again, and now the face mask shattered. When the captain hurled Vader over his shoulder, the helmet-face mask ensemble fell off.

Crichton rolled Vader over to finally look at the Imperial's face. The visage staring back at him was completely unexpected. For the first time in his memory he was taken by surprise. More unsettling, he actually recognized a face he didn't remember meeting.

"Scorpius?" Crichton sputtered.

Scorpius stood, still wearing the Vader cloak and armor. "Really, John. If you must choose a villain for your fantasy, why come up with someone so obviously overblown as this Vader character?"

Uncertainty settled into Crichton's gut. "Who-what…."

Scorpius pinched the material of John's shirt. "You're falling into oblivion, John, and I can't have that. What good is your knowledge if it is locked up forever in a fantasy world? I thought pulling you out of that Scarran's world of insanity was enough, but perhaps you are weaker than I had expected."

"I don't understand. I'm Captain John Crichton, hero of the Federation."

"You're John Crichton, insignificant human with significant wormhole knowledge running away from me with a band of insignificant fugitives."

"I-I don't believe you."

"Think, John. Can any of this truly be real?" Scorpius put a gloved hand on Crichton's forehead. "Let me show you your true world, your true self."

Unbidden, images assailed Crichton's mind. He saw a strange-looking ship, a living ship, very different from his own U.S.S. _Moya_. Yet with the same name. He saw members of his crew in attire very different from the Starfleet uniforms they usually wore. And Aeryn…Aeryn was there too. Only she did not shower him with the adulation that she did now. Worst of all, in the world Scorpius was showing him he had very little control over his life. Events dictated him, he didn't dictate events.

"Why would I want to return to that world?" Crichton asked.

"That world is real. This world is a fiction."

"I don't care."

Scorpius smiled serenely. "Someone does care, John."

Aeryn's image returned. As if he was an unseen observer, he watched her frantically try to revive him with the CPR techniques while in the Flax. He watched as she followed him into the "wormhole" to the false Earth, and the intimacy they shared while there. She infiltrated the Gammak Base to rescue him, even though she was still recovering from her own injury. And when he was ejected from that blob that had cloned his past and future selves, she covered him with her own body, keeping him warm when the effects of the blob chilled him.

"You must ask yourself, John. Do you want this fantasy world where nothing is real, for the short time you can maintain it until your real body dies? A false world with a false Aeryn Sun showering you with false adoration? Or do you want to take the risk of living in the real world with all its lack of control, but you will have the real Aeryn Sun who has real feelings for you, even though she shows those real feelings in a manner that frustrates you? Choose, John. Life or oblivion. Reality or fantasy."

Crichton bowed his head. "You know, I'm getting real sick of you being a mental buttinsky, Scorpy."

* * *

Aeryn found Crichton on the terrace, staring out at the backdrop of stars. He had the round metal ball that he used to play something called golf, tossing it into the air and catching it. He seemed not to notice her presence, and she watched his back quietly. He hadn't said much of anything since coming out of his coma. She understood someone's desire to keep his or her private thoughts private, but that was out of character for John.

Crichton caught the ball and held it in his grip. "Hey, Aeryn. Are you lurking for a reason?"

She moved to stand beside him. "I don't lurk, John. Chiana and Rygel lurk. I don't."

"Uh-huh."

"Are you all right?"

"No." His blunt answer surprised her. "I'm tired of getting mind-frelled every time I turn around. First it was the Delvians. Then those ancient bastards with their false Earth. Then Scorpy and his damn chair. Now the frelling Scarrans. I'm sick of it, Aeryn."

"I know. Zhaan said you retreated into someplace where you felt more in control."

"I was in control, Aeryn. In that fantasy world I was in control of everything that affected me."

"Why did you return to a world where you have little control?"

"I was reminded that this is the real world, no matter how much it sucks." He looked at her, a slight smile touching his lips. "And I was also reminded that the land of the living and the breathing isn't all that bad. Some parts of it are pretty damn good. Or just plain pretty."

Aeryn returned his smile.


	3. Winona, Don't Fail Me Now

Disclaimers: Farscape belongs to Jim Henson Co

Disclaimer: the characters and setting within are owned by Jim Henson Co., Network Nine, Hallmark Entertainment, etc

WINONA, DON'T FAIL ME NOW

A _Farscape_ adventure

Time: sometime before "A Clockwork Nebari"

"Rygel!" John Crichton rose to his full height and stuffed the container of herbs into the pouch he had slung across his red vest. "Come on, Sparky, where are you?"

With the hum of his hovering throne-sled, the deposed Hynerian Dominar emerged from the thick foliage into the clearing where Crichton was working. Rygel seemed contented as he chewed on the root he had in his hand. In two steps Crichton was at the Hynerian's side, gripping the diminutive Dominar's arm.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the human demanded, thrusting a plastic printout into Rygel's face. "See this? We're supposed to be gathering these herbs for Zhaan. Aeryn and Chiana have their own shopping list, and this is ours."

"Please, Crichton," Rygel said imperiously, "a royal Dominar does not debase himself with menial labor that is best left—"

Rygel cried out in alarm as John suddenly tipped the throne-sled forward, dumping the Hynerian ignominiously into the underbrush that covered the forest floor. He lifted himself up with his stubby arms, spitting out a mouthful of what looked like ferns.

Crichton grabbed Rygel by the scruff of his neck and thrust him back into his throne-sled. "We don't split up, Sparky," the human said. "The idea of searching for these herbs in groups of two is so we don't get ourselves lost alone on this planet."

"I don't see why Zhaan couldn't look for these frelling herbs herself," Rygel groused.

"She's still mourning Stark, so give her some slack. D'Argo can't come down here because his allergies are worse than mine. Aeryn dislikes you even more than I do, and we can't very well trust you and Chiana to go traipsing off together now, can we. So, I'm stuck with you." Crichton felt a tickle in his nose, and he sneezed. "Damn! I hate these forest planets!"

Aeryn's voice piped over Crichton's comms badge. "Crichton, what's your progress?"

Crichton sneezed again. "We've got almost half the stuff on our list."

"Chiana and I are nearly complete. What's your delay?" He could almost imagine the smug smile forming on Aeryn's lips.

"I'd be almost done too if I had some help and didn't have to do this alone."

"Alone? You have Rygel."

"Aeryn."

A chuckle issued from the comm badge. "Understood. We'll be heading back to the transport pod within the arn, John. Do try to hurry."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Crichton sighed as he looked at Rygel, who had found another piece of vegetation to munch on. "Come on, Sparky."

* * *

Aeryn Sun immediately went to the piloting console upon entering the transport pod and checked the power levels. The former Peacekeeper slid her lithe figure into the chair and began the pre-flight inspection. She was midway through the sequence when Chiana returned from the back of the pod, where she had stowed the pouches with their supply of herbal remedies for Zhaan's apothecary. The Nebari girl hovered over Aeryn's shoulder.

The older woman scowled as she glanced back at the Nebari. "Don't you have something to do, Chiana?"

"Like what?" Chiana asked. "The stuff has been put away. You're doing the pre-flight. All I have to do is wait for Crichton and Rygel to get back so we can leave."

Aeryn pointed to the opposite wall. "Well, couldn't you wait over there?"

"You're just grumpy because you had to spend the day with me instead of Crichton today. You guys could have paired me with Rygel, you know."

"Not likely, Chiana. Crichton and I would have had to complete your list as well as our own."

Pilot's voice over the communicator drew Aeryn's attention away from the Nebari girl. "Officer Sun, how much longer are you going to be on the planet's surface?"

"Hopefully not much longer, Pilot," Aeryn responded. "Chiana and I are finished with our list. We're just waiting for Crichton and Rygel."

"Moya's long range scans are picking up a ship at the very edge of her detection range. It's still to far away to identify."

"Thank you, Pilot." Aeryn tapped her comm badge. "Crichton."

"Yeah, Aeryn," Crichton's voice replied.

"How much longer?"

"I'm almost done with the list, but I lost Rygel."

"You lost Rygel? How did you lose Rygel?"

"I don't know, Aeryn, one minute I'm picking this orange _kelbor_ stalk and the next Rygel is off following his tummy. All three of 'em. That little bugger can really move since he's able to hover over all this damn undergrowth that's tripping me up."

"Come on back to the pod, John. Rygel can find his own way back."

"No, Aeryn, I've got just a couple more things to get. _Heemot_ root and _fellit_ leaves, then my list is complete."

"Well hurry, John. Moya detects a ship at the edge of her detection range. Unidentified, but we can't risk it being Peacekeeper in origin."

"I'll be back in about a quarter arn. I see the _fellit_ leaves now. At least I think they're _fellit_ leaves."

* * *

"Come on, Rygel, this isn't funny," Crichton called out, screwing closed the container to seal the sample within. "I have all the herbs on our list, no thanks to you. It's time to go back to the transport."

He stuffed the container into his pouch and scanned the forest. The shafts of sunlight piercing through the foliage canopy were taking a shallower angle. The sun was coming down off its apex, indicating the approaching dusk. The last thing he wanted to do was get himself stuck out here at night with all the night critters. He hated daytime critters enough, but the nasty nocturnal variety…he shuddered to even think about it.

Crichton came to a stop and craned his head, his eyes taking in the scenery around him. His right hand dropped to the holster strapped to his thigh, feeling the cold comfort of his pulse pistol's haft.

_Damn, I'm lost_, he thought.

* * *

Aeryn quit pacing and tapped her comm badge. "Crichton, it's been an arn. You said you'd be a quarter of an arn. Did you find Rygel yet?" she asked impatiently.

"No, Aeryn," was Crichton's exasperated reply.

"Well, leave him here. If he can't follow directions and stay with his assigned partner, that's his problem. Not ours. Come on back."

"Sure. Easier said than done."

"What do you mean by that? John, where are you?"

"That's the 64,000-dollar question. I think I got myself lost looking for Buckwheat."

"You _think_ you got yourself lost?"

"All right, I am lost. Do you think you can locate my comm badge and direct me to the pod?"

"Stay in one spot, John, so we can get a fix on you."

"Okay, I'm planting my feet."

Aeryn set to work. She was calibrating the pod's sensor on the main pilot console when she heard a familiar hum. She looked up as Rygel entered the cockpit on his throne-sled, chewing contentedly on a piece of root.

Anger simmered through the Sebacean's being. "Rygel, where's Crichton?"

The Hynerian shrugged. "How should I know?"

"He was your frelling partner!"

"For a species with long, gangly legs he seems to have a problem maintaining a decent stride."

Aeryn reached out and smacked Rygel across the back of his head with her palm. The blow was nearly forceful enough to throw him off his throne-sled.

"How dare you strike a royal Dominar—"

Chiana came up from behind the Hynerian and wrapped an arm around him in a headlock. "I'd keep my mouth shut from here on out if I were you, frog-boy."

Pilot's voice piped in from the communicator. "Officer Sun."

"Yes, Pilot," Aeryn said into the communicator.

"We have a positive identification on that ship. It's a Peacekeeper Marauder. Its course seems to indicate a standard patrol vector."

"So it's not singling out this planet?"

"It doesn't appear to be. If you can lift off from the planet right now, we may be able to break orbit and Starburst away before the Marauder detects Moya."

"We can't lift off right now, Pilot. Crichton hasn't returned to the transport yet."

D'Argo's baritone voice took over. "He alone hasn't returned!"

"Yes, D'Argo," Aeryn affirmed.

"No one was supposed to go out alone. Those were the arrangements."

"I know, D'Argo, but Rygel decided otherwise. We're trying to fix in on his comm badge so we can get his location and direct him back to the pod."

"We cannot wait much longer, Officer Sun," Pilot said. "The Marauder will detect Moya shortly."

"What do you suggest we do? Leave Crichton behind?" Aeryn was not about to do that. She cast a baleful glance at Rygel.

"I would never suggest that, Officer Sun. This planet has some rings that may mask Moya from the Marauder as it passes through the vicinity. We will hide there until it passes. If you shut down most of your pod's systems, you should be able to minimize the pod's energy signature enough to avoid detection. Unless, of course, the Marauder decides to achieve orbit."

Aeryn shook her head, knowing Pilot couldn't see her gesture. "No, Pilot, there's nothing of interest to Peacekeepers on this primitive planet. Go ahead and hide. We'll shut down all systems on the pod except for our sensors."

"The Marauder may pick up you sensor signal if they get close enough."

"We need it to locate Crichton's comm badge."

"And the Marauder may pick up Crichton's comm signal as well."

"Pilot, I'm not leaving him alone on this planet at night."

"As you wish, Officer Sun. Good luck."

"Thank you, Pilot."

* * *

John Crichton waited patiently as Aeryn used the transport's sensor to triangulate his comm badge's position. The former Peacekeeper wasn't anything if not efficient, and she would soon locate him. His pride may be a little stung at getting directions from a woman no less—okay, he was still very much a human male, so sue him—but he didn't relish the idea of spending the night alone with all the local nocturnal critters.

The rustle of something heavy crunching the forest's underbrush startled him. The hairs on the back of his head stood on end as he took a step away from the direction of the sound. He instinctively thumbed the release on his holster and curled his fingers around the pistol's haft.

Slowly he threaded his way through the thick jumble of trees, seeking the last clearing he had passed through earlier. The clearing was about fifty feet at its widest point, and it gave him a good vantage point to watch his immediate surroundings.

"Come on, Aeryn," he murmured. _Save my ass again_.

Wood cracked, and a heavy shape emerged from the tree line. Crichton gasped in surprise, bringing the muzzle of his pistol up. The creature that now stood before him was reptilian and huge, and memories of his capture by the Scarran agent on that commerce planet hit him hard. The creature before him looked too much like a Scarran for John's peace of mind, but he assumed it wasn't one of that foul race of aliens. One, this creature had no clothing and, two, it had a prehensile tail. The effect gave the creature a familiar appearance. Something Crichton had seen before in books as a kid or a few B-grade sci-fi movies or one blockbuster film.

It looked like a dinosaur.

"Son of a…."

The creature lunged. Crichton squeezed off a pulse from his pistol, catching the creature full in the chest. The beast squealed in pain before slumping to the grass.

* * *

"Aeryn!" Crichton's voice sounded.

"We're getting a fix on your comms, John, be patient," Aeryn said. "I thought I told you to stay in one spot."

"Yeah, Aeryn, but I got some damn velociraptors after me."

"Veloci-what?"

"Never mind!"

Aeryn thought she could hear the distinctive whine of pulse pistol blasts in the background. "John, what's going on?"

"I'm lunch, that's what!"

Panic threatened to disturb her calm, professional demeanor. "We're working on it, John. Just hold on."

"Yeah. Okay. Hold on. Got it." Another blast echoed through the comms, and Aeryn thought she could hear a beastly wail. "I'll hold on as long as my _chakkan_ oil holds out."

Aeryn focused her mind on completing the triangulation, though she knew even if she found him there was little she could to for him. It could very well be too late by the time she located him and arrived at his position to help him. She slammed the console in helpless disgust.

"Oh, sh—" John's voice cut off abruptly.

"Crichton!" Aeryn shouted into the communicator as Chiana slid up next to her, concern etched on the girl's gray-skinned face. "John!"

There was no answer. The console chirped, telling her that the triangulation was complete. Crichton's comm badge was still active, though not moving. Fear gripped her heart as she imagined the worst.

"No," she murmured.

"Is he…," Chiana began, her voice catching in her throat.

Aeryn didn't respond, instead grafting the location of Crichton's comm badge in her memory before heading toward the door. Rygel hovered by, and Aeryn stopped to grip the former Dominar by the throat.

"You slug!" she seethed. "If anything happens to him, you'll be looking back at what Durka did to you with fondness!"

She slammed his head against the bulkhead and strode onward.

"What the frell was that all about?" Rygel asked Chiana as she passed by.

"You abandoned Crichton, and now it looks like something got him for dinner," the Nebari said. "I hope you're satisfied, froggy."

* * *

Corpses littered the opening in the forest, but thankfully none of them were Crichton's. Aeryn breathed a little easier at that, but she certainly wasn't going to allow herself to relax.

She counted at least eight dead creatures, all with fatal injuries characteristic of pulse pistol blasts. "He made a good showing for himself," she remarked, just to say something.

Chiana approached with a comm badge in her hand. Aeryn discerned a scrap of black cloth still attached.

"His comm," the Nebari said. "I found it near one of those dead things. It looks like blood on it, and the dead creature had blood on its claws."

"He's injured," Aeryn said. But how badly was he injured?

"What the frell are these things?" Rygel asked.

"Crichton called them velocirappers, I think," Chiana said. "There must be creatures like this on his planet."

Aeryn scanned the grass under her booted feet, gripping her pulse rifle more firmly. She saw a drop of red near the tree line. She moved to the speck of blood and dropped to one knee. Branches and other foliage had been disturbed in this area. Greatly disturbed.

"It looks like several of the creatures followed him into the trees here," she said.

"Do you think he succeeded in escaping?" the Hynerian asked.

Aeryn rose to her full height and spun around, aiming her rifle in Rygel's direction. "For your sake he'd better."

"One of us should go back to the pod in case he finds his way back," Chiana suggested.

"Rygel," Aeryn said.

Rygel's earbrows rose. "Me? Go back alone? With those creatures roaming around?"

"Why not? You left Crichton alone."

"I didn't know about those…those things before."

"Well now you do, so I advise you to be careful."

Grumbling about Peacekeepers in general, and Aeryn in particular, Rygel headed back in the direction of the transport pod. With the Hynerian's voice fading in the distance, Chiana slowly crept to the disturbed plant life.

"We must prepare for the worst, Aeryn," she said.

"If Crichton can kill eight of those things, I can take out more if we have to," Aeryn said. Noting the rifle in Chiana's grip, she added, "And you may actually hit a few too."

"That's not what I meant, Aeryn. I meant that maybe the ninth or the tenth creature got him. The sight won't be pretty. I saw a friend of mine torn to pieces by the keedva on the—"

"That's enough, Chiana."

"Just be prepared for the worst, okay."

"I'm a soldier, Chiana, I'm always ready for the worst."

"That's not a battle companion out there, Aeryn, it's John."

Aeryn knew that only too well. Adjusting the heft of her rifle, she plunged into the foliage.

* * *

"Are you certain, Pilot?" D'Argo demanded.

"I am not mistaken, D'Argo. The Marauder is heading for the planet's orbit. The planet's rings are effectively masking Moya, but if the Marauder achieves orbit the Peacekeepers may be able to detect the transport pod on the surface."

"Aeryn said the Peacekeepers wouldn't have any interest in that primitive planet. Do you suppose they detected the pod already?"

"I don't see how they could from their distance."

"We should warn John." D'Argo's fear for his friend—and Chiana—stirred within him.

"I can send a brief message to the transport. Any longer and the Peacekeepers will pick up the message stream."

"Do it."

* * *

"Aeryn."

Aeryn grimaced as she fingered a broken sapling. "What, Rygel?"

"I made it back to the transport pod."

Damn, he didn't get himself eaten by one of those velocirappers after all. "Good for you."

"I thought you should know, Pilot contacted the pod."

"And?"

"He sent only one word. 'Peacekeepers.' Now what the frell does that mean?"

"The Marauder is probably heading for the planet after all," Aeryn said, rising to her full height. "Look, Rygel, shut down all power in the pod. Everything. The Marauder's sensors may miss it if it's not giving off any energy readings. And it's imperative we keep communications silent. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Rygel replied half-heartedly. "And if the Peacekeepers find the pod, and me?"

"There's nothing we can do, Rygel. If the Marauder finds the transport, they'll contact their mother carrier—most likely Scorpius's. The command carrier's sensor sweep of the planet will pick up our life signs shortly after it arrives in orbit."

At which point, Aeryn knew, Scorpius would know where on the planet John was. Assuming, of course, he still had life signs to detect. Scorpius's single-mindedness meant that once he located John, he would ignore the others and take the Human into custody. John would be taken from her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it right now.

"We have to find him, Aeryn," Chiana said, voicing her concern.

Aeryn grunted and silently moved toward the next marker.

* * *

"John."

Crichton, leaning back against a tree trunk, glanced around him. The voice couldn't have come from his comms. The device had been torn off him by one of the attacking velociraptor-looking critters—God, he hated critters—leaving behind a row of slashes across the left side of his chest. The wounds weren't deep, but they seemed to be festering already.

A dark figure seemed to appear out of nowhere before him. He raised his pistol and fired, the bolt passing harmlessly through the figure to strike a tree trunk beyond. He squeezed the trigger a second time, but nothing happened. Damn, the _chakkan_ oil cartridge was empty.

"Come now, John, " Scorpius admonished.

"You again," Crichton murmured.

"You must survive, John. You must avoid these carnivores and survive."

"Sure, no argument there. How do you propose I increase my odds, Scorpy? Are you going to scout ahead for me?"

"You know I can't do that, John."

"Then what the hell good are you?"

Crichton released the spent cartridge from his pistol and let it drop to the ground. He reached to his belt with a left arm that was quickly becoming numb and took out the one and only spare cartridge he had brought along. He set the cartridge into the pistol.

"Are you going to do more than stand there looking smug, Scorpy?" Crichton snapped.

"I can do better, John. I can tap into your subconscious and help you remember the way back to the transport pod."

"Why didn't you do that before I was jumped by the velociraptors?"

"I was hoping your friends were capable enough to help you, but it looks like I have to once again—as you say—bail you out. Really, John, you can be such a challenge to keep alive."

"Hey, if it were up to me I'd be more than happy to settle down in a nice quiet town. A woman. Children." One dark-haired former Peacekeeper woman in particular, he thought, and since they were genetically compatible…. 

"You can muse about Officer Sun later, John," the Scorpius image said. "For now I think you should start remembering how to get back to the transport."

* * *

Chiana put the _chakkan_ oil cartridge into Aeryn's palm. "It's empty."

Aeryn stared at the empty cartridge. She hoped John carried a spare.

"Look over here," Chiana gestured. "A pulse blast on the trunk of this tree."

"But no carcass. He either missed with his last shot or he merely injured it."

"We can't assume he was killed, Aeryn. There's no blood here. If the creature had killed John and eaten him, it would have been messy."

"Shut up, Chiana."

"I'm just telling you there's still hope."

Aeryn appreciated the Nebari's attempts to look at the positive, but Chiana didn't have to be so graphic in describing John's possible demise.

The former Peacekeeper scowled, moving toward a snapped branch on a nearby sapling. She fingered the compromised branch, looking into the woods. She felt her breathing become easier.

"I haven't seen any sign of the creatures the last few metras," she said. "Furthermore, it looks like John has turned back."

"Back to the transport pod?" Chiana asked hopefully.

"Perhaps." Aeryn wasn't going to be too hopeful. Crichton's latest direction change was probably only blind luck.

* * *

Crichton emerged from the forest into a clearing, and he instantly froze in place. Four faces—very human-looking faces—stared back at him from where they stood in front of their vessel. On this side of the galaxy, and with their craft being a Marauder, the quartet were definitely not humans. They were….

"Peacekeepers," Crichton said. How had the Scorpius image known the Marauder would be here? Maybe it didn't. Maybe the figment had restored his subconscious memory of the path to the transport pod, but he had stumbled on the Peacekeepers by sheer luck. Really bad luck.

Four pulse rifles came up, leveled at Crichton.

"Ah crap!" he exclaimed. "Frell! Frell! Frell! Frell! Frell!"

One of the Peacekeeper commandos seemed to stare directly at Crichton, his eyes widened with fear. A commando showing fear?

The commando fired, and Crichton dived to the grass. The pulse blast passed harmlessly overhead.

"You idiot!" Crichton cried. "Don't you know Scorpy wants me alive!"

Another commando fired, this time off to the side. Crichton rolled to look behind him, and his eyes fell on a dead velociraptor. He scrambled away from the carcass as the scenery around him seemed to erupt with the lizards.

* * *

Chiana cocked her head to one side. "What the frell is that?"

"Pulse blasts," Aeryn said, her heart thudding in her chest. "From multiple weapons."

"You don't suppose the Peacekeepers found Crichton, do you?"

"Perhaps." Aeryn knew Crichton wouldn't surrender himself alive. He would try a suicide charge against a company of commandos before allowing himself to be taken alive to face the Aurora Chair again.

She urged her legs to a sprint, knowing that by the time she arrived at the battle scene it would already be too late. And then she would expose herself and Chiana to the commandos. She didn't care, however. She wasn't about to stand by idly while Crichton was captured.

* * *

Crichton stood alongside the Peacekeeper commandos, joining their fight against the horde of velociraptors. The irony would be amusing if the entire damn episode weren't so deadly. The human fired off bolt after bolt at the seemingly endless parade of attackers until his cartridge was empty. Ejecting the spent cartridge, he retrieved a replacement from the commando standing beside him.

"What the frell are these things, human!" the commando captain growled.

"This is your side of the galaxy, pal," Crichton replied, firing point-blank into a creature's maw.

The captain had both his rifle and pistol out, one in each hand, and stepped forward to unleash his barrage. A half dozen creatures fell under his onslaught, but another lizard came from his right side and pounced on him. In less than a second the captain's head was gone. The commando standing to the captain's left fell as two lizards pounced on her. Crichton shot both creatures dead, but there wasn't much left of the commando. The third Peacekeeper had already disappeared under the attack of several reptiles and was torn apart.

"It's just you and me now, man," Crichton said to the last remaining commando.

"Our only chance is to escape," the Peacekeeper said, nodding toward the Marauder. "Get in."

"I don't think so, pal. You're just going to take me to Scorpy."

"Would you rather die?"

"Death by lizard or the Aurora Chair? I'll take the lizards." To punctuate his point, he shot a creature through the chest.

"Suit yourself, Crichton."

The Peacekeeper turned to head into the Marauder, but a creature took him from behind and bore him to the ground. Crichton killed the creature, but it was already too late. The commando was a bloody mess.

John looked around at the carnage, noting only ten, maybe eleven velociraptors lurking around the clearing, warily eyeing their dangerous prey. He kissed the side of his pulse pistol.

"You did me good today, baby," he murmured. "I'll have to call you something. How about Winona? Yeah, Winona."

The creatures seemed to have steeled their nerve, for they were starting to move toward him. Crichton looked at the Marauder. The lizards would be on him before he got halfway to the boarding ramp, and he would suffer the same fate as the commandos. Well, he was probably going to suffer that fate anyway, so he may as well make a run for it.

He ran toward the ramp. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the velociraptors surge forward. Damn, this was it.

A pulse blast echoed in the clearing, then another. Crichton skidded to a stop and whirled around as Aeryn and Chiana emerged into the clearing, their pulse rifles firing. John raised his own weapon and fired. Winona added a few more creatures to its score.

The creatures were no longer a threat, all dead. Crichton smiled at the luminous former Peacekeeper as she strode purposefully toward him.

"You saved my ass again, Aeryn," he said.

"Don't I always?" she replied. She looked him over, her gaze falling on his wounds. "We have to get those injuries tended."

"I agree," he said, turning on his heel, away from the Marauder. "Follow me."

Aeryn gripped his arm. "I thought you couldn't find you way back, John."

Crichton frowned. "I remember how to get to the pod now. Don't ask me how I remember."

"Okay." She had a skeptical expression on her face. "Before we go anywhere we're going to use the Marauder's medical kit on you."

John relented. Aeryn went into the Marauder to retrieve the kit. A moment later she emerged and told him to sit. He complied, and she knelt in front of him.

"This was quite a battle," Chiana remarked.

"Yeah." John winced as Aeryn applied an antibiotic to his wounds. "Winona never failed me."

"Who's Winona?" Aeryn asked.

How could he explain to her that he had named his pistol? "Never mind."

She grunted in acknowledgment, but he knew she wasn't satisfied with the answer.

* * *

Aeryn found Crichton on the mess deck nursing a beverage. His left arm was still in a sling, and he had one foot propped on the ledge he was sitting on, his blue eyes gazing out the view port at the stars beyond. Aeryn poured herself a beverage and sat on the ledge across from him.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked.

"Nah," John replied. "Zhaan gave me this painkiller that works wonders. It works as well as morphine, but none of that foggy-headedness that goes with it. But some people on my planet actually enjoy that foggy-headedness."

Aeryn smiled. Yes, he was babbling inanely, but the point was he was alive to babble inanely.

"Who's Winona?" she asked him. "You never told me."

"It's not important, Aeryn."

Her ears became warm. Jealousy? He had said Winona hadn't failed him. Someone else had come through for John when she couldn't. She should be grateful to this unknown person who saved John's life, but it bothered her it wasn't her. And who was Winona? One of the Peacekeepers who had died on the planet under the onslaught of creatures?

He looked at her, noting her intense gaze. "Oh, all right. But you'll think it's stupid."

"I won't," she assured.

"Winona is what I named my pistol."

Aeryn paused with her cup near her lips. "You named your pistol?"

Crichton shrugged sheepishly. "It's something we do sometimes on Earth. Well, the males of my species tend to do that. We name our cars, our trucks, our airplanes, our guns, our…." He trailed off, glancing down toward his waist. "Well, you know."

"Oh really." She set her cup aside and slid closer to him. He was truly an odd creature, but that was John. And she secretly loved him in spite of that—or because of that. When she next spoke, her lips were within a dench of his ear. "Well, considering I know your…you know…rather intimately, don't you think you should tell me its name?"

He turned his face toward hers, his cheeks reddening. 


	4. The People Vs. John Crichton

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters; various other people own them. I use them with love and respect, but I make no money off them.

Spoilers: Up to and including the fourth season through "John Quixote."

Rating: PG

**THE PEOPLE VS. JOHN CRICHTON **

"Chiana!" John Crichton stood beside the boarding ramp of the transport pod. "C'mon, Pip, I said two arns and two arns only."

He felt a tap on his shoulder from behind, and he craned his head to peer over his shoulder. Chiana's lithe, pixie-like form was there, behind him, leaning against the pod. Her bluish lips were turned up in a smile, her wide eyes dark in contrast to her pale gray skin and shock of white hair. When he turned to face her, she leaned in close to give him a playful kiss on the cheek.

"What are we waiting for, Crichton?" she purred.

"You, actually." He shook his head. "You know, the last time the two of us went out on one of jaunts around the Uncharted Territories you picked up that V.R. mind-screw game left behind by Stark." He swung toward the boarding ladder, paused and tilted his head toward Chiana. "How did we end up with that thing anyway? Isn't it a little bit of a coincidence that, in this whole damn vast universe, that game ends up in your lap?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, let's think about that on the way back to Moya. I'm ready to go."

He scowled. "All right, Pip, what did you do?"

She batted her eyelids innocently. Was that a universal female thing or something? "What makes you think I did anything, Crichton?"

"Well, you're all of a sudden in a hurry to leave. And I know you. The only one who's even more of a klepto is Rygel."

"I didn't steal anything. I swear." She swatted his backside. "Go on, you _fekkik_, get on in there."

"Hands off the butt."

"Oh, you liked it and you know it."

A quartet of figures rounded the corner of a building and marched onto the landing pad. They wore official-looking uniforms. Like all the native Hokivans, they had elongated heads with eyestalks and gaping maws with the flat teeth of herbivores. The eyestalks resembled horns, giving their heads a slightly bovine appearance.

"Uh oh, here comes the Minotaur patrol," Crichton murmured. "Pip, what did you do?"

"I…I don't know," Chiana replied. "I think it was trespassing or something. I was just minding my own business, and I took a shortcut through some kind of garden. How should I know I wasn't supposed to do that?"

"Dammit, Chiana, don't you read the Keep Off The Grass signs?"

The approaching troopers would look pretty harmless were it not for the long rifles they carried. Crichton moved away from the boarding ladder and planted his feet in a wide stance, arms folded across his leather-jacketed chest. He felt naked without Winona on his hip, but as per the city's local ordnance his beloved pulse pistol was locked up on the transport pod. 

The aliens halted their march several yards away. The Minotaur--Hokivan--with silver epaulettes on his shoulders regarded Crichton. "Peacekeeper."

Crichton had grown quite weary of explaining to everyone in the Uncharted Territories that, no, he wasn't a Sebacean, he just looked like one. So he played along.

"_Ex_-Peacekeeper," he said.

The Hokivan grunted. "You are the male responsible for this female, yes?"

Crichton exchanged glances with Chiana. "How do you mean?"

"Is she your mate?"

The human laughed, and Chiana laughed with him. "Oh no," Crichton said. "No, no, no."

"So she is male-less," the Hokivan lieutenant (or sergeant, whatever) said. "Having a female run loose without a responsible male is unacceptable."

At his gesture, one of his men shouldered his rifle with the muzzle directed at Chiana's head. Crichton stepped forward and pushed the muzzle toward the deck with a swipe of his hand.

"Hold on, buckaroo, back home we don't even put our dogs down on the spot for running loose. As long as they don't bite your ass, that is. All she did was trample some grass, _n'est pas_?"

"She defiled the Divine Stalks."

Crichton looked at the Nebari girl. "Pip, you didn't tell me you walked through some kind of sacred garden."

"I didn't know," she said.

The human redirected his gaze to the Hokivan lieutenant. "So, what if I were the male responsible for her? Would you stay your street execution?"

"There would be no need to terminate her life," the lieutenant said. "There would be a trial to determine the guilt."

"Then she's my female," Crichton said. "I claim responsibility for her."

"Crichton?" Chiana questioned.

"When in Rome, right?"

"We're not in Rome. We're in Tor City, on Hokiva. I've never heard of anyplace called Rome."

"Never mind. So, sheriff, when's her trial?"

"Your trial will occur when the next adjudicator is available," the lieutenant replied.

"Should I get her a lawyer?"

"She doesn't need a litigator, Sebacean. You do."

"Me? I didn't walk on the grass."

"She's your female. You claimed her. You bear the responsibility for her transgressions."

"What, so she goes Scott free?"

"She is your female. You are considered one entity by our laws, and the two of you will both be tried. Do you understand now, Sebacean?"

Crichton stared straight ahead as the Hokivans shackled the pair. "Next trip, Pip, you're staying on the transport pod."

* * *

D'Argo was bent over one of the command panels, palms planted firmly on the console, as he peered at the main screen. He was fully comfortable with the role he had been selected to perform. He wasn't sure who the three besides himself were who voted to name him captain, but he had an idea. And of those on Moya whose opinions really mattered to him--John, Chiana, Aeryn, Pilot, Moya herself--three out of four (Moya had abstained) was an honor. He guessed Pilot had been the one vote for Aeryn out of the DNA link she shared with him from the experiment performed upon her by NamTar. Rygel had clearly voted for himself. And who else would vote for Scorpius except Sikozu, who didn't know the prisoner like the rest of them did? And the Divine Eternal? That vote had to have come from the annoyingly eccentric old woman Noranti. He missed Jool even more.

He only hoped to live up to the trust some of the most important people in his life had for him to bestow this honor on him.

"Pilot, any word from John and Chiana yet?"

"No, Ka D'Argo, I'm afraid our hails are getting no response," said the soothingly even voice of Pilot.

"You know what happened the last time those two went out together," Aeryn Sun said from behind the big Luxan.

D'Argo turned from the main screen to face the dark-haired Sebacean woman. "What are the chances of that happening twice in less than ten solar days?"

"On this boat? I wouldn't count it out."

D'Argo smirked at Aeryn's use of what could be called a "Crichtonism." The small smile vanished, however. This was the woman who had crushed the heart of his best friend, just like his own heart had been crushed more than a cycle ago by Chiana and his own son….

He cleared the thought with a shake of his head.

"Is there a problem, D'Argo?" Aeryn asked.

"No. I'm just starting to get worried about John and Chiana."

"I think the only pair on this ship who can get into more trouble than John and Chiana is Rygel and Chiana."

"And that's what worries me."

The familiar hum of a hovering throne sled sounded from behind them. "Why are we not moving?" Rygel demanded.

"Speak of the devil," Aeryn said.

Another Crichtonism. Was that her way of keeping a part of John with her while he was so far away, both physically and emotionally? Yes, D'Argo had noticed that John had been keeping his distance from her. Giving her the cold shoulder, in John's unique parlance.

"Well…Captain?" Rygel said. "Are you going to deign give a lowly crew hand an answer?"

"We told John we'd rendezvous at these coordinates, and we're going to wait for him," D'Argo replied.

"How many times are we going to indulge in this wormhole obsession of his?"

"Now that he can predict wormholes," the Luxan growled, "he needs charts to put that ability to use. That obsession of his may get you to Hyneria to regain your throne."

Rygel's brows perked with interest. "Yes, then by all means let's indulge."

Satisfied, he left the command deck, the hum of his hover sled receding.

"You just have to know how to talk to the little slug," D'Argo said to Aeryn.

"That's why we named you captain, Captain."

* * *

"Hey, do I get rights?" Crichton asked as he and Chiana were sealed in a windowless ten-by-ten cell of mortar bricks. He scanned the walls and ceiling, looking for any sign of listening and/or video devices that anyone outside may be using to monitor them. "Hello?"

He gave up, lowered himself onto the low cot with the thin mattress. "Just once I'd like to run into an alien species with the concept of a Bill of Rights."

"I guess we get to share a bed," Chiana said.

Crichton, caught off guard, looked at her. "What?"

"There's only one bed, Crichton. We'll have to share. I promise, I won't bite."

He patted the mattress beside him and stretched out on the cot. He didn't feel like arguing, and no sense in one of them facing the judge sore from sleeping on the floor. Chiana slinked into the cot beside him.

"Good night, Crichton."

"Good night, Pip."

* * *

"What was the name of that place he said he was getting the wormhole nexus charts?" D'Argo asked.

"That freighter captain we ran into on that last planet mentioned someplace called Veran," Aeryn replied.

"He's long overdo. Pilot, set a course for Veran."

"Yes, Ka D'Argo. Prepare for starburst."

"Are we sure those coordinates the freighter captain gave us are accurate?" Aeryn questioned.

"Who cares," D'Argo said. "Those are the coordinates John took, so those are the coordinates we'll take."

* * *

A light slashed through the darkness through the open door, alerting Crichton that something was amiss. He dragged his eyes open, blinking as the cell's overhead lights suddenly snapped on. Chiana, cuddled on the cot next to him, was also aroused from her slumber.

"Good news," a uniformed guard said. "An adjudicator is available to see your case."

"Oh man, couldn't it wait until morning?" Crichton grumbled.

A Hokivan in a bright red smock walked into the cell. "You are the Sebacean named John Crichton?"

Crichton levered himself to a sitting position, the heels of his palms on his eyes. "I am."

"I am Adjudicator Te'Mav, and I am assigned to try you for allowing your female to defile the sanctity of the Divine Stalks."

Crichton pushed himself to his feet. Chiana stood beside him, an arm around his waist.

"All right, we may as well get this over with so we can get back to Moya," he said. "Take me to the courtroom."

"Courtroom? I shall try you here, Sebacean."

A bad feeling crept into Crichton's gut as a pair of guards moved forward to shackle his wrists and upper arms. He was placed against one of the walls, with Chiana protesting in vain, and the ominous image of a firing squat came to mind.

The adjudicator produced a pair of small metal disks, which he placed on Crichton's temples. The dread mounted, accompanied by flashbacks of the Aurora Chair.

"Oh no!" he cried. "Hey, what're you doing?"

Te'Mav touched a brooch on his smock, and sharp electrical needles lanced through John's temples, his skull, his brain. A scream escaped his throat, and his knees buckled out from under him.

"Stop it!" Chiana pleaded, lunging before she was held fast by a guard.

When the pain subsided, Crichton peered up at the adjudicator. "This is a trial?"

"A trial in the face of the Eternal Icaren. If you survive three days of the trial, it means Icaren has forgiven you for your female's transgressions against his Divine Stalks."

"Oh man, I just dropped into the Salem witch trials."

Te'Mav touched his brooch again, sending another wave of electrical pulses through Crichton….

* * *

Moya had come out of starburst near the planet Veran. A brief scan from orbit couldn't find the transport pod anywhere on the surface.

"What if we missed him?" Aeryn asked.

D'Argo accessed the journal entries in Moya's database, finding the entry John had transcribed about the run-in with the freighter captain who had first told them about the nexus charts on Veran. The name the freighter captain had given was Harek, a Veranian scientist.

"Then we'll head back to the rendezvous coordinates after we talk to this Harek," the Luxan said.

* * *

Te'Mav removed the disks from Crichton's temples, and the guards unshackled the listless human and dropped him to the cot.

"We shall administer another session in six arns," the adjudicator said.

Chiana was released by the guard who had been holding her, and she moved immediately to the cot to roll Crichton onto his back. His eyes were open, rolled up so only the whites showed.

"Crichton?" she said weakly, shaking him. "John?"

His eyelids fluttered, and he jerked upright. "Go to hell, Scorpy!"

"John, no, Scorpius isn't here. He's still on Moya."

He shook his head and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. "Sorry. Aurora Chair flashbacks. Damn it!"

She sat on the cot beside him, holding him as she lay back on the cot, bringing him down with her. "Get some rest."

"No. I have to get out of here."

The door opened again, admitting a Hokivan in a white smock. He carried a cylinder in his hand.

"Hey, the adjudicator said six arns!" Chiana protested.

The Hokivan held out the cylinder. "This alleviates the residual aches from the trial."

"Aches!" Crichton scoffed. "I have full-fledged pain over every inch on my body from you sons of bitches."

"Please," the Hokivan said, gesturing with the cylinder.

"Why are you worried about his pain?" Chiana demanded. "I thought that was part of the trial."

"The trial is in recess. We're not cruel; there's no reason for you to suffer."

Crichton sighed and gave a single nod. The Hokivan administered the cylinder to the human's neck. Crichton's haunted face suddenly relaxed, and he actually began to smile.

Chiana shifted to look into his eyes. "Crichton?"

"I'm good," he said, grinning.

The Hokivan departed, the door closing behind him.

* * *

Harek, the Veranian scientist, was startled by the sudden appearance in his laboratory by a Luxan male and a Sebacean female. The scientist scooted back, his nose twitching, his pale green skin becoming a deep green.

"Oh no," he whined. "Two Peacekeepers in less than two days can't be good. Can't be good."

The Luxan and the Sebacean exchanged glances. "There was another Sebacean here?" the woman asked.

Harek nodded. "Yes. With a Nebari girl. Asking for wormhole nexus charts, of all things. What made him think I had them?"

The woman leaned forward, an intensity in her eyes. "Where is he?"

"I don't know." Harek threw his hands in the air. "I don't."

Before Harek could blink, the woman had the collar of his tunic in her grip, pulling him close to her face. "Where is he?" she enunciated slowly.

"Okay, okay. Look, a Sebacean and his Nebari trelk came looking for wormhole nexus charts. That's all I know. I don't know how he thought _I_ had them. I'm looking for nexus charts of my own."

"We got your name from a freighter captain," the Luxan said.

Harek looked from the Sebacean to the Luxan. Could it be that the Luxan was actually the reasonable one of the two? "Small fellow?" the scientist asked, holding his hand out, palm facing down, at shoulder height. "About this tall? Bad teeth? Purple hair?"

"Yes," the Luxan said. "That's the one."

"Ah, I see the misunderstanding now. Feren was always a bit of an addle-pate. I told him to keep an eye out for nexus charts for me in his travels. But that was, oh, three cycles ago. Your friend was probably told by Feren that I must have them by now, but I don't. I hadn't seen that moron in three cycles, and I now have a lead on where a chart can be found."

The woman drew Harek closer. Normally, the scientist would be fascinated by the proximity of this beautiful female Sebacean, but the hostility in her eyes dispelled that.

"Did you tell John about this lead?" she asked quietly.

"Hokiva," Harek murmured. "I told him I heard about some nexus charts being on Hokiva."

The Sebacean finally released him. Without further word, she strode out of the laboratory. The Luxan gave the scientist a parting nod of thanks before following her out the door. Harek sighed and leaned against a table, his nose twitching.

If he ever saw another Sebacean, it would be too soon.

* * *

Crichton sat quietly, staring blankly ahead, a strange smile on his face. Chiana watched him with concern. She felt a strange stirring within her as she watched the human who had been her friend, her protector for the last three cycles. She inhaled deeply, smelling a sweet musk that seemed to be emanating from him.

_Dren, the painkiller drug has a side effect not just for him, but for those near him_.

John turned his head toward her, his blue eyes boring into her own. His smile deepened.

Before she knew it, she attacked him, her fingers finding the fastenings of his clothes. And he didn't protest, his own hands clawing at her fasteners.

* * *

Te'Mav watched the bodies writhing together on the large screen in his office. Without looking away, he gestured to his assistant.

"Are you recording this?" he asked.

"Yes," the assistant said. "Of course."

"Ah. This should fetch a decent price off-world. A full two arns of footage and still going. And that Nebari girl is quite limber, is she not?"

"Quite."

* * *

The first thing Crichton noticed when he awoke was the headache lancing through his skull. The second thing he noticed was his lack of clothes, and that Chiana lay in his embrace in the same state of undress. He quickly extricated himself from her and snatched up his pants. Tugging them on, watching her stir, he felt himself drawn to her again. He knelt down and placed a soft kiss on her blue lips just as her eyes opened. She smiled, her arms going around his neck.

Then, as if they simultaneously realized what was happening, they drew back from each other. They kept their gazes averted as they scrambled to dress themselves.

The door opened as Crichton was shrugging into his jacket. The adjudicator walked in.

"You're free to go," Te'Mav said.

"What?" Crichton asked.

"Our priest had an epiphany from Icaren. He forgives your transgression, and you're free to go."

"Just like that?" Chiana asked.

"Yes."

"Well, tell this Icaren thanks. Come on, Crichton."

Crichton was rendered speechless by the sudden turn of events, and he allowed Chiana to pull him out of the cell. None of the Hokivans impeded their path as they left the government building. Minutes later, they were in the transport pod prepping for launch. They went through the pre-launch procedures without a word to one another.

The pod was ready for flight, but Crichton didn't engage the drives.

"What are you waiting for?" Chiana asked.

"The other shoe to drop," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Something stinks here."

Chiana sniffed herself. "I don't smell anything. Oh frell, D'Argo will. He'll smell me on you and you on me, and we'll have some explaining to do. And I can't explain something I don't understand myself. What came over us?"

"That's what I intend to find out," Crichton said, rising from the pilot's chair. "They let us go too easily. Nothing's that easy in the Uncharted Territories."

"You call that easy? You were tortured, and they did something to make us…you know."

"Yes, but why? That's what I want to know."

"You gonna sneak back in there?"

"Nope. Gonna use the front door."

He moved to a storage compartment and withdrew two of the Tarkan shield harnesses that he'd had the foresight to pack. He handed one to Chiana and donned the other. When he strapped on Winona, he was ready.

The pair disembarked from the transport pod and returned to the government building. They barged their way through the front door, and a guard leveled his rifle at them. Chiana flinched when the guard fired, but Crichton let the pulse hit him full in the chest. The Tarkan device hummed, there was a brief blue flash, and the shield held.

The pair walked past the dumbfounded guard. Crichton thrust Winona's muzzle into the face of a Hokivan sitting behind a desk.

"Adjudicator Te'Mav's office," he growled.

The Hokivan pointed timidly down the hall. "Fourth door down."

Crichton smiled pleasantly. "Thank you."

Beckoning Chiana, he strode down the hall until he found the fourth door. A pulse blast to the locking mechanism allowed him entry. When he entered none too subtlety, Te'Mav jumped out of his chair. Crichton and Chiana aimed their pulse pistols at the adjudicator. Crichton allowed his gaze to sweep the scene displayed on the wall screen. Chiana, beside him, gasped.

"The fekkik recorded us!" she said. "He recorded us!"

"Why?" Crichton demanded.

"Surveillance of the prisoners," Te'Mav said. "It's not my fault you couldn't control yourself with your female."

"Bull. You did something to us. Why?"

"I already told you, Sebacean."

Crichton looked at Chiana, gave her a wink. He returned his gaze to the Hokivan. "Just because I'm an ex-Peacekeeper doesn't mean I forgot any of the…interrogation techniques they trained me to perform. Chiana dear, do you remember that guy on Alderaan who wouldn't answer my questions?"

Chiana shuddered. "I don't want to think about it."

Crichton leaned closer to the Hokivan, waving Winona slowly before the adjudicator's eye stalks. "Then there was that guy on Dagobah. That was a work of art."

"I couldn't eat for two solar days after seeing what you did to him," Chiana said.

Te'Mav's thick throat convulsed as he swallowed. "I recorded this to sell off-world."

The human scowled, pressing his pistol's muzzle into the Hokivan's throat. "You made us porn film stars! Without our consent! I oughtta shoot you right now!"

Te'Mav cowered under the threat. "Please don't. You would never have known if you hadn't just left when I released you."

"How did you do it?"

"The drug administered to you after we softened your willpower."

"The torture wasn't a test from your god? It was to soften my willpower so you could inject me with your aphrodisiac?"

"Our planet's economy depends on selling these recordings off-world."

"Back home we've got countries whose economy is based on a single commodity, like oil. But not porn." Crichton made another menacing gesture with Winona. "Why not film these with your own consenting people?"

"My people are not considered to be an attractive race to most off-worlders. Sebaceans, Interons, Nebari, Delvians…footage of those races in intimate bliss are the most sought-after. And to have an inter-species recording…certain elements are particularly titillated by that."

"So this whole trial of Icaren is a big farce?"

"There is no such thing as the Divine Stalks. We saw you and the Nebari land, and we knew we had to have you."

"Uh-huh. Are there copies of this?"

"In the vault."

"Show me."

"I'm the keeper of the recordings. If I violate that trust--"

"I'll violate your skull," Crichton snapped, motioning with his pistol.

Te'Mav nodded and stood.

"I have a question," Chiana asked. "What was all that dren about females being owned by males? Was that a lie too?"

Te'Mav stared at the girl without answering.

"I suggest you answer her question," Crichton said.

"It was," the Hokivan said. "There is no distinction between the rights of males and females on this world because there are no males or females. We reproduce asexually."

"Whoa, and that also explains why you don't film your own people. Still, it's no excuse for what you're doing."

"We needed to determine if there was an emotional bond between you two, and the best way to determine that was to see how far the male would go to save the female's life."

"Why did you need to know that?"

"The serum we administer to the male that arouses his own intimacy and emanates pheromones for the female…it requires the subjects to already have an emotional attachment to one another to work."

"We only have a platonic relationship."

"It doesn't matter. You care for one another, that's all that matters for the serum to work."

"The vault." Crichton punctuated the command with a wave of his pistol.

Te'Mav touched his brooch, and a section of the wall slid aside. Crichton peered inside and saw rows and rows of shelves stacked with thousands of small cards that looked a little like the floppy disks back home.

"Those are all the recordings you've made?" Chiana asked.

"Our economy is in this vault," Te'Mav said. "These are the masters of all the recordings we made. If you'll give me a microt, I'll fetch the recording we made of you."

Crichton looked at Chiana, and she nodded. The pair raised their pistols.

"No!" Te'Mav cried, stepping forward.

Too late. Pulse blasts lanced out of the pistols, dancing across the shelves and shattering the recordings. Their task done, they turned to Te'Mav, who stood with his eyestalks stiffened in shock.

"Now, Smut Boy, these are the masters," Crichton said. "Are there any copies of that recording of us floating around out there?"

The Hokivan's massive head swiveled toward them. Listlessly, he said, "The copies were--"

Four guards chose that instance to burst into the room, their pulse rifles firing. The Tarkan belts protected Crichton and Chiana, but errant blasts pummeled Te'Mav. The Hokivan adjudicator was hurled to the floor.

Crichton and Chiana turned their weapons on the guards, gunning them down in short order.

"All right, let's get out of here," he said.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

They fled the government building, passing by guards who fired at them ineffectually. They bounded up the boarding ladder and raised it. The free-flight had already been completed, so all Crichton had to do was engage the drives. The transport pod rose off the landing deck and rocketed skyward.

"Do you think any copies of us survived?" Chiana asked him.

"I hope not."

"Are you going to tell Aeryn?"

He looked sharply at her.

"I know she didn't tell you about her pregnancy, or about who the father may or may not be." Chiana shifted from her seat to kneel beside his. "But if you keep this from her, and if she stumbles across a copy of the recording on some commerce planet…well…."

He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

Pilot's voice piped over the comms. "Commander Crichton! Chiana!"

Crichton looked up and activated the comms. "Pilot! It's good to hear your voice."

"It's good to hear yours, John," said D'Argo. "Are you and Chiana all right?"

"We're fine, D'Argo," Chiana said.

"What happened? Did you get those charts?"

"No, D, but we had a bit of an adventure," said Crichton.

"The bay door is open and waiting for you."

He closed down the comms, and Chiana rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you going to tell her?"

Crichton pressed his lips together. Finally, he said, "Buckle up and prepare to land, Chiana."


End file.
